Incantations of past horrors again brought to life, whose eyes
Are the might of death, to reap and reap again. May it be in
Form of fright or a temptress dressed in lace - its true face
Is a gruesome abomination. Piercing the quiet, as every night
Before, with alluring voices. Landscapes left to rot behind its
Turned back. The true face and its purpose shown - open up
The burning eyes to aim once more. Behold your face in the
Mirror and for the first time see the flaws that lies within
You - fears and remorse. Is it a shadow behind you who put
All thought aside? Is a voice now calling louder than before?
For all the answers to your questions is death. For you
Are like the world - turning in a restless pace, awaiting
A storm to great to outlive. Each birth bears to fate
Each seed hold the will to rot. This does adapt to you as
Well - your blood is not running pure. Have in mind, you
Walk in denial - you are always being watched